Madeline had just taken a bite of her apple, feta, and pecan salad when her cellphone buzzed. Looking away from the spreadsheet she was studying—the terse email from corporate this morning had deemed the review a priority—she peered at the number on the display. It didn’t look familiar, but the area code was local.
She hesitated to answer, but very few people in the area had her cell number. Curiosity getting the better of her, she quickly swallowed her bite and picked up the phone. “This is Madeline,” she said briskly.
“I was hoping I would catch you on your lunch break. How’d I do?”
Her stomach did a little somersault at the sound of Tanner’s unmistakable drawl. She’d dreamed about their kiss last night, but she wasn’t sure that the dream version was any better than the real thing. “I’m taking a working lunch. How did you get my number?”
“Believe it or not, my grandmother texted it to me this morning. ‘Just in case,’ it said.”
Madeline laughed lightly. “Your grandmother texts?”
It was hard to picture Ms. Letty sitting in her 1970s wood-paneled kitchen, tapping away on a cellphone. Heck, the harvest-gold phone mounted to the wall was an honest-to-God rotary.
“You better believe it. She discovered she was much more likely to hear from me if she texted when I was on the circuit.”
She didn’t even try to stifle the grin that came to her lips. “So your grandmother is more tech-savvy than you, huh?”
“Hey, now. Grandma Letty’s got me licked on a lot of things, but technology is definitely not one of them.”
“And yet you actually called me. I can’t remember the last time I willingly talked to someone on the phone outside of work. It’s so two thousand and seven,” she teased.
The deep rumble of his laughter made her heart lift. “Would you hang up on me if I told you I’d wanted to hear your voice?”
She bit her lip. “I should.”
“Mmhmm. I don’t hear a click,” he said. She could actually hear the smile in his voice.
She glanced down to the spreadsheet in front of her and sighed. Now was not the time to be bantering with the man. “What is it that you want, Tanner? I am a busy woman, you know.” She rustled the papers on her desk for effect.
“You.” He paused just long enough to make her wonder. “I’ve decided it’s high time you saw God’s country the way it was intended.”
“And how is that?” she asked suspiciously.
“Come on by my place tomorrow at ten and find out.”
“That’s way too vague for me to drop everything and come all the way out there.”
“Is it?” he drawled. “And here I was hoping it’d be just vague enough to pique your interest. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” And just like that, he said good-bye and hung up the phone.
She stared at the display in disbelief. His confidence was astounding. Let him hope whatever he wanted. Madeline was most definitely not going over there tomorrow.
He was waiting for her when she pulled up at five after ten the next morning.
Alright, so he had been right about her curiosity, but she refused to let him gloat about it. Besides, it was a Saturday and she had nothing else planned, and yesterday had turned out to be a super-rough day. Tanner was her escape, whether she admitted it or not.
Turning the engine off, she stepped out of the car and set a hand to her hip. “This had better be good.”
She lifted an eyebrow in expectant challenge, even as she drank in the sight of him in his faded plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and those perfect-fitting jeans that he loved so much. He looked like the lead in a modern cowboy movie. It was a look she was rapidly growing fond of.
His smile was slow and wide, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He tugged at the brim of his hat and said, “Yes, ma’am, it will be. Follow me.”
He led her toward the barn, his boots crunching loudly on the gravel underfoot. As they stepped through the wide doorway into the darkness, the smell of horses and hay assailed her senses. There were several stalls, and two horses clipped to a pair of leads in the main corridor.
Madeline came to an abrupt halt, realization dawning. “What, exactly, do you have planned, Tanner? I assumed you were planning to take me on a tour of the county’s backcountry.”
He nodded as he walked to the nearest horse, a slender but tall reddish-brown mare. “That’s right. On the back of a horse, as God intended.” He picked up a saddle and heaved it onto the beast.
Her eyes went wide as she took a quick step backward. “Are you crazy?” It was one thing to ride in a horse-drawn carriage in Central Park; it was another to actually sit on top of a horse.
“For you, maybe,” he said with a grin over his shoulder as he cinched a leather strap tight. “But when it comes to horses, darlin’, I don’t mess around.”
She shook her head in disbelief. Didn’t he tell her just days ago that his father had been killed while riding? “You’re not just crazy; you’re certifiable. I’m not getting on the back of that thing.”
The animal was truly beautiful, and it waited very patiently while Tanner messed with the saddle. But that didn’t make Madeline any more inclined to climb on its back.
He finished securing it in place before turning to her with a look that was somehow both chiding and challenging. “Live a little, Madeline. I promise you’ll enjoy it, once you learn to ride.” He was gently coaxing, with that crooked smile tilting his lips. “People always fear the unknown.”
“I do want to live, which is why I’m not getting on a huge, muscular beast with its multiple sharp hooves.”
He patted the horse’s neck. “Miss Red here is as gentle as a new mama. You can trust me on that.”
No. He was nuts, and she wouldn’t do this. Even though his voice was warm and tempting and his earnestness seemed genuine, she couldn’t take the risk.
She bit her lip. Could she?
“Give me two hours,” he said, sensing her hesitation. “We can ride to the river for a picnic. If you don’t like it, we’ll be close enough to walk back.”
“Tanner—” she said, about to refuse, but he stepped forward and set his hands on her upper arms, looking her straight in the eyes.
“Trust me, Maddie. And don’t worry; it’s not a date. I’ll be sure to charge you for the lesson when we get back.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
She didn’t even complain at the shortening of her name. Her parents had made sure no one ever tried to “bastardize” her name, as they called it, but she liked the way it rolled off his tongue. She liked the way everything rolled off his tongue.
“I am,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “Now say you’ll ride with me.”
She drew a deep breath, scrunched her nose, and nodded. She might be crazy—she was about to put her life in the hands of a cowboy and his horse. And, no, she didn’t want to examine her reasons too carefully.